


This Mess

by slartibartfast



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Desperation, Desperation Play, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Control, Non Consensual, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slartibartfast/pseuds/slartibartfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick fill for <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6565.html?thread=10619557#t10619557">this prompt</a> on Avengerkink:</p>
<p>
  <i>Loki doesn't generally deny his brainwashed minions their bodily needs - that would be counterproductive after a while - but there's something delicious about watching his little hawk grow full and desperate and then lose that control he prizes so much.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Mess

It's been the best part of a day now and Loki finds himself impressed by Barton's restraint. The others were not nearly so entertaining. They did not squirm so prettily, they did not look up at Loki with wide eyes, too stubborn to ask again. Barton knows the routine. He knows that Loki will not bend on this and it is the inevitability of defeat that makes Barton fight so hard.

"Drink," Loki says quietly, passing Barton a tall glass of cold water. When Barton eyes it like it's poison, Loki smiles. " _Drink_. I don't want you getting dehydrated before the fight."

There's a few hours to wait until the time is right to leave. That leaves Loki with plenty of delectable hours to watch the struggle at his side. A hunch in Barton's shoulders and a shortness to his breath is the only hint of the torment Loki is offering him. But Barton drinks. He takes a sip, looks up, then swallows back the entire glass without being asked. Loki watches the slide of his Adam's apple and widens his smile.

"Good boy," Loki says as he takes back the empty glass. Not one drop remains. He places it down and lets his cool hand rest on the curve of Barton's neck. "What do you say, little hawk?"

"Thank you sir," Barton replies shakily. His eyes are downcast and he's breathing harder now. 

This fight for control where none remains is addictive, beautiful. Three days in a row Loki has watched Barton come apart and still each day Barton fights it again. There's only so much a body can hold however, and Loki waits patiently for the moment to come, drinking in every desperate twitch.

Half an hour later, Barton's hands flutter in mid-air above his crotch and then rest again on the rails in front of him. "Sir, I need-"

"No," Loki says and Barton breathes out sharply. He turns his head but Loki cups his cheek and draws him back; Barton cannot hide through this. Loki must see as Barton's damp lips part on a sigh that's mixed parts elation and shame. He must see the way Barton clutches at himself to hold it back and how even that loss of control sends red heat into Barton's cheek. 

" _Shit_." Barton's hand drops away as the first dark wet spot spreads into the denim. There's a pause as Barton gathers the last scrap of command over his full bladder and then finally, _finally_ , all control is lost. Barton groans in embarrassment as he relieves himself into his jeans but Loki will not let him look away. The sight is too addicting. Barton's eyes flutter closed and the a blissed-out look replaces the shame, mouth hanging open with his lip pressed against his teeth. He breathes like he's forgotten how, all hitches and gasps, and he clutches at Loki's arm like he's a lifeline.

It goes on forever. Loki is not a cruel master but he has his moments, and today he's forced more than one glass of water down Clint's throat. Barton is full to the brim so by the end of it, he's slumped against Loki, head against Loki's chest. He's soaking and shivering and stinking. 

"Look at this mess," Loki breathes, stroking fingers down the line of Barton's jaw. Abruptly he takes a long step back, leaving Barton to fold down to the ground, curling over himself as if that could hide the stench of the urine soaking his clothes. "Now, little hawk, find me when you have cleaned yourself."

When Barton approaches him fifteen minutes later, already the picture of control, Loki smiles. He loves the way Barton's face falls as Loki passes him another glass of water.

And he loves the way Barton does not hesitate to lift it to his lips.


End file.
